


a song of mundane rage and minimum wage

by greekphilosophress



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grocery Store, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29135532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greekphilosophress/pseuds/greekphilosophress
Summary: theon is trying to work. robb is trying to make friends. jon is trying to keep his head down. margaery is trying to get with robbs' pretty sister. stannis is trying to run a store, but his employees aren't making it easy.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Renly Baratheon/Loras Tyrell, Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Satin Flowers/Jon Snow, Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark
Comments: 18
Kudos: 47





	a song of mundane rage and minimum wage

**Author's Note:**

> I CANNOT STRESS HOW MUCH CREDIT GOES TO MY WONDERFUL FRIENDS ON THE DISCORD SERVER!!! i love you all so much mwah

_ “Theonweneedyourhelp!”  _

Theon Greyjoy looked up from behind the seafood counter, only to see Robb Stark, cashier extraordinaire, slam his hands onto the counter surface, red-faced.

“Robb? What happened?” Robb, who had evidently sprinted here, was gulping for air. “Stannis is out... and…. so is Brienne… and Dacey…. and Jon called in sick today… so-”

“So  _ what,  _ Robb?”

_ “The Lannisters are brawling in aisle 3 and you’re the closest thing we have to a security guard!” _

“Oh  _ shit!” _

Theon vaulted over the counter and ran with Robb, following his lead. As he got closer and closer to the front, he could hear the sounds of a struggle, muffled curses. The crowd of people that were looking on turned back to him. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be any customers about, but what looked like half of the staff were gaping at the spectacle.

“ _ Theon, _ thank the gods.” Renly Baratheon was holding his cheek, and between his spread fingers Theon could see red. “I already got slapped and her goddamn ring sliced me halfway open.” Theon was less than convinced, but kept his mouth shut, for once. 

Daenerys was beside him, trying to get him to remove his hand so she could have a look at the cut. One of her lizards (bearded dragon?) was curled up on her shoulder. It hissed menacingly at Theon as he went by.

He waded through the throng of people, stopping once he reached where they ended. Cersei and Tyrion Lannister were whaling on each other with what looked like cooking utensils, spatulas and wooden spoons flying. Theon cast his eyes upwards and…. yep, there it was. The sign above the aisle read,  _ ‘Cookware’ _

Perfect. There were knives in there, somewhere. 

It was only a matter of time before they found them, and there would be hell to pay and  _ a lot  _ of mopping to do if someone died.

After seeing Cersei go for a frying pan, he turned to the closest person, who happened to be Robb. “If I die, dump my body on Stannis’ desk.”

And he jumped into the fray. Neither of them seemed to notice him at first, which was good, but he crept behind them just in case. He lunged forwards, trying to grab the cheese grater Tyrion was brandishing, when the pan came down on his back. Twisting, he grabbed the rim and held on for dear life, wrenching it out of Cersei’s hands.

Being disarmed didn’t stop her, though. She bore down on him and Tyrion both, with nails and teeth. She was wailing something, now, though Theon couldn’t understand it. 

He rolled to avoid her heel, which slammed down where his head should be.  _ She’s actively trying to kill me, _ he thought hysterically,  _ so that’s great. _ He had been trying to scramble upwards, pry them apart, but now he was just trying to get out of the way. He turned around and tried to run, but she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked it back. 

He was slammed to the ground, and he felt her knee pressing down, depriving him of air. His hands scrabbled fruitlessly at the linoleum.

Suddenly, her weight was lifted off of him, and he could breathe again. Looking around wildly, he saw an enraged Cersei being dragged away by Brienne, who had gotten here sometime during the fight. Tyrion was being restrained by Podrick Payne, who worked as a junior security guard and never spoke in more than two sentences. They both looked like they had just arrived, coats still on.

Theon was gasping on the floor, and when Robb pulled him up, he, rather embarrassingly, had to lean on him for support. 

“Maragery, would you please go into my office, and get the green sticky note on the side of my computer monitor?” Brienne was holding Cersei with both of her hands, and the other woman was not going down easily. Tyrion, however, was sat against the floor, trying to claw open a fruit rollup he had stolen somewhere between the fight and captivity. Margaery nodded and sprinted away.

When she returned, note in hand, Brienne grimaced. “Please get the phone out of my bag, and call the number.” Margaery did so, and put it on speaker so Brienne could hear it, what with her hands being rather occupied.

_ “Hello?!” _ The voice that came through the phone’s speakers was obviously delighted. Tyrion and Cersei obviously recognized it, because their eyes grew wide in tandem. “Jaime, please come pick up your siblings.” 

Theon was surprised, now. The Lannister siblings were forever causing trouble everywhere they went, and calling the third one to deal with the other two didn’t seem like a good idea. Also, why did the assistant manager have Jaime Lannister’s number on a sticky note in her office?

_ “I- I’m not going to ask.” _

“Get here,  _ now.” _

She nodded to Margaery, who ended the call. Cersei was still muttering obscenities under her breath, but she seemed to have marginally calmed down. As calm as a woman like Cersei could get, anyway.

\---------------------------------

At the sound of the door-chime sounding, everyone turned to stare at in surprise.  _ Surely Jaime can’t be here already, _ Theon thought.

The brown-haired boy who walked through the door stopped when he noticed the scene in front of him.

“Marge?”

“Now is not the _ best time, _ Garlan.” 

The boy, who Theon could assume was Margaery’s brother, opened his mouth to retort, but shut it when Margaery said, “I’ll get a ride with someone else, ok? This is kind of a mess.” 

“But what-” She was shepherding him out of the door, and his words were cut off by the heavy glass. “I’ll explain at home!” She was shouting, though Theon doubted he could hear.

Garlan finally left, and the tension in the room was building. Cersei was starting to claw again, and her teeth hadn’t gotten any less sharp. Someone, probably Renly, had taken away her rings, which was a good idea in Theon’s opinion. He would have a bruise on his cheekbone for a while, if all of the prodding he had done at the puffed-up area had proven anything.

When Jaime finally breezed through the doors, he took one look at his siblings and sighed. “What did you do?” He demanded, sounding weary.

“They decided to duke it out in  _ my _ store, that’s what.” At the sound of Brienne’s voice, Jaime perked up considerably. “Brienne! I’m so glad you called!” She rolled her eyes, evidently not as pleased to be speaking with him. “I just need you to take these ones home. And stop letting them come back, because Cersei has been banned on at least 8 separate occasions.”

Jaime sighed again, and Brienne released Cersei into his custody. Tyrion got up and followed, bowing. “We’ll be here all week!” He was waving as if to an adoring crowd, beaming broadly.

“Is he drunk?” Robb murmured next to Theon. 

“Most definitely.” He replied. 

\---------------------------------

Renly across the room had commandeered the First-Aid kit, so Theon walked over and held out his hand. Renly dropped some bandages, neosporin, and a travel-sized bottle of peroxide into it, and then kept on despairing over the scar that the wound was sure to leave.

Casting a look over at the front of the store, he saw that someone had finally powered off the  _ ‘OPEN’ _ sign. 

It was probably Margaery. She worked in the clothing department (puny as it was) and seemed to carry the only shred of common sense in the store. 

Theon made his way to the bathroom, carrying the supplies in his hand. As he pushed through the door, he saw a familiar auburn head at the mirror, washing his hands. Robb turned his head at the sound of the door opening and smiled at him. Theon waved, a little sheepishly, and held up the bandages, peroxide, and ointment in explanation.

Robb nodded and went back to what he was doing, which seemed to be trying to get a spot of blood out of his shirt. It was probably Theon’s blood from when he was leaning on Robb, which made him feel guilty.

He bent over the sink and started to wash the dried blood off of his face, wincing as he rubbed at the fresh cuts and bruises. When the water running through his fingers came away clear, he started with the peroxide. 

He hissed when it touched a particularly nasty cut on the bridge of his nose, and he had to take a minute to brace himself against the sink.

“Here - let me.” Robb was next to him now, and he gently took the bottle from his hands. Theon, who was just now beginning to feel how hurt he actually was, was too tired to protest. He focused on holding himself up against the basin of the sink.

Robb’s fingers were cool and gentle against his face, performing this task with the utmost precision. “You know, I have 5 younger siblings. I’m pretty good at patching people up.” Theon smiled a little. 

“I’ve met Sansa quite a few times, - lovely girl by the way - and, unfortunately, we work with Jon.”

Robb thwacked him on the shoulder playfully. 

“Don’t be an ass! Jon’s my brother, dickwad.” Theon rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. Robb’s eyes softened the tiniest bit. “I’m sorry I asked you to get in the middle of that. I had no idea how vicious Cersei could be. The most violent I’ve ever seen her is when Dacey had to stop her son from setting off fireworks indoors. Remember how she-”

_ “- tipped over the card display, _ yeah.” Theon laughed. “Oh gods, don’t remind me. I’m glad I’m all the way at the back, I don’t know how you cashiers do it.” Robb’s fingers smoothed a bandaid over his nose, and Theon tried to concentrate on his face. 

“Well, Renly flirts with all of the guys, Jon takes an unhealthy amount of breaks to go scream into a pillow in the staff room, Dany smuggles in her bearded dragons, and I talk to you.” 

“I’m glad I’m of use to someone.” He had meant it in a joking way, but now Robb was looking at him in concern. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

Theon shrugged and tried for a confident smirk. “Don’t get all sentimental, Stark.” Robb smiled at him, until -

There were a series of knocks on the bathroom door. “Hey, are you guys… good in there?” Margaery’s voice floated in. “Uh, yeah! Why?” Robb leaned away from Theon, walking towards the door, and then opening it. Theon followed close behind.

“Do you think you could give me a ride? My brother Garlan was supposed to and-” 

“Of course, Marge. Um, my sister Sansa actually dropped me off today - she’s trying to get better at driving, she’s sort of hopeless - so she’s picking me up since my car isn’t here. I’m sure we could drop you off on the way home!”

Margaery smiled brightly, and patted Robb on the shoulder. “I look forward to meeting her.” She went over to Dany, who was putting the shelves back in order, and joined her, bringing order to the chaotic mess left behind.

Theon turned to Robb. 

“My shift was over like-” he checked his watch  _ “-45 minutes ago,  _ would you look at that. When Dacey gets in, tell her how well I did  _ her _ job. I mean what’s the point of having a security guard if she’s not here when you need-”

“Theon. Be careful.” Robb had cut him off and was looking at him intensely. 

“I will, Stark. See you tomorrow.” 

As he crossed the parking lot, the setting sun harsh in his eyes, he smiled. He raised a hand to his nose, where a bandage applied by a careful hand still stuck to his skin.


End file.
